


Silhouettes (On Ice)

by jiwrites



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22089577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiwrites/pseuds/jiwrites
Summary: Everyone remembers the day Choi San fell. But no one remembers it like Seonghwa. Because he was the reason it happened.
Relationships: Choi San/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 12
Kudos: 39
Collections: Ateez AU Collection (Ongoing)





	1. Shame On Me For Loving You (Prologue)

Everyone remembers the day Choi San fell. Seonghwa remembers it well. Too well.

In fact, Seonghwa remembers everything.

He remembers when he first moved here, a new kid with a passion for art and beauty in a world full of athletes.

He remembers meeting San for the first time in the fifth grade when he had just come back from a competition and hid out from everyone wanting to talk to him. Seonghwa had been there. Hiding with his own lunch.

He remembers watching San skate for the first time in the eighth grade. They had only just become good friends. He remembers how San had looked on the ice.

He remembers when he told San in the tenth grade that he should work on his triple toe more. And when San informed him that the move wasn't even in his program so Seonghwa could shut his mouth.

He remembers busting San's chops in the eleventh after learning the names of the moves. He remembers he just wanted San to get better.

He remembers San screaming at him, telling him he had no idea what he went through to become a skater. That he never would.

He remembers the laboured breathing and biting kisses that took place after. He remembers the way San had said his name.

He remembers holding hands with him and stealing kisses in between classes in the twelfth grade. He remembers feeling like they were forever.

He remembers getting the letter that would tell him he'd been accepted into a fashion institute halfway across the country. He remembers San's face when he told him.

He remembers the day he left. He remembers San not being there. He remembers seeing a crying blonde boy in a hoodie standing by the security. He remembers wondering if San just never told him he came.

He remembers the say day Choi San fell. He remembers the panicked gasps and cries. He remembers his eyes connecting with San's just seconds before. He remembers it being his fault.

It was all his fault.


	2. In The Cold And Snow, I Saw Your Face

_It was odd. Leaving the only life you've ever known behind and starting all over again without even bring able to take care of yourself in such a great big world. At least it was odd for ten year old Park Seonghwa. He looks around at the new big school buildings and the smooth expanse of asphalt, wondering what the kids here would be like and how long it would take for him to fit in or make friends._

_He follows his mom into the main office and bites his lip, hands on the straps of his backpack as they go to meet the principal. "It's okay, Seonghwa," his mom promises and leans down to kiss his head._

_The principal walks out with a big smile and shakes their hands, "Hi, I'm Mr. Song." He nods. "You must be Seonghwa."_

_With a nod, he nervously bites his lip and shakes his hand back, "Yes. Nice to meet you, Sir."_

_The man smiles brightly, "Shall we get you to your classroom? Come on. Follow me."_

_Seonghwa walks behind the two adults while they talk, holding his mom's hand tightly, as though he's scared she'll disappear. He looks around, knowing he can't just go home now and hating that fact. He liked his old school. His old friends. He didn't know anyone here. Who was he supposed to eat lunch with? He whimpers and clings closer to his mother as they walk up to a door._

_"Here we are," Mr. Song smiles._

_"Ready to go in, sweetie?" His mom smiles._

_Seonghwa nods and lets go of her hand to walk in, only to turn around and hug her tightly, "I love you, mom."_

_"I love you too," she smiles and leans down to kiss his head. "Go on. I'll be here for you right after school. I promise."_

_Seonghwa nods and waves as he disappears across the doorframe with the principal, shrinking a bit as the entire class looks up at him. "Class, this is Park Seonghwa! He's our newest student and will be joining you today. Everyone say hi." The class choruses hellos and the principal leaves._

_"Okay, Seonghwa share a fun fact about yourself. Like what's your favourite sport?"_

_"Oh...I don't have one..." Seonghwa says embarrassed and takes note of all the football and soccer themed notebooks, pencils and bookbags around the room. He already felt like an outcast._

_"Oh, then how about something you like to do for fun?"_

_"I like...drawing?" He shrugs._

_"Drawing is fun! Okay, sweetie, go have a seat next to Jongho. Jongho raise your hand."_

_A hand shoots up and Seonghwa walks over to sit in his new assigned seat. "Hi," he whispers._

_"Hi," the boy whispers back, though he seems a little annoyed. "I'm Jongho."_

_He doesn't dare try to whisper back to the boy next to him and instead just takes the journal his teacher sets on his desk and follows the instructions on the board, wishing he could just run back out to his mother._

Seonghwa felt like that, now. Like he just wanted his mother. She always made everything better. He looks out the train window and sighs to himself. Just a little while longer and he's be home.

He'd been on the train for an hour and a half now and wanted nothing more to just get off and be back officially. He hadn't even told anyone he was coming. He wondered how they'd react. If any of his old friends would even recognize him now...

He checks his phone and scrolls aimlessly for a bit before he clicks on his own page, scrolling through it to the end, clicking on the first picture he ever posted from almost eight years ago.

It was a photo of him and someone clinging to his chest, facing away from the camera, a hoodie belonging to Seonghwa covering their hair from view, with the caption: "I'm addicted to you, my snowflake," with some emoticon heart. He sighs and shakes his head at the photo and puts his phone away to look back out at the snow falling outside the train window.

He breathes fog onto the window then draws a snowflake on it and smiles to himself. It was a favourite pasttime of his. Especially as a child. Snowflakes just made him happy and feel safe.

_That's why he drew one on the window of that art classroom everyday he ate in there by himself. It had been about three weeks and he still had no friends, unless you counted Mr. Tran, the art teacher. Other than art class, his days were boring and repetitive._

_Until the one day when the door opened to his clasroom during math and his whole class screamed, rushing over to the boy had that had just walked in. He was confused, so he didn't stand and just sat there, trying to piece things together. One of the kids turns and looks at him, "Dude! San's back! Come on!"_

_San? He raises an eyebrow, looking over to get a glimpse of a smile and wispy blonde hair, but that was really it. He had no idea what was going on. He notices another kid, Yeosang, he thinks, still diligently working and leans over, "Hey...who is that?"_

_"Choi San. He does ice skating!" He shrugs, "He's back from a competition. Probably won another gold."_

_"Gold? Wow." Seonghwa nods then goes back to doing his work, waiting until everyone settled down and San could sit and breathe to actually look at him. He was blonde with freckles on his neck and a crinkly eye smile. Seonghwa tilts his head and takes it in before the bell rings and the teacher lets them go for lunch._

_Seonghwa takes his brown bag and walks to the art classroom, sneaking inside and climbing up onto the ledge under the window. He leans against the wall and pulls his lunch out, eating carefully looking at the snow fall outside._

_The door opens and a boy runs in, seeming like he's hiding. He takes deep breaths before he seems to realize someone else is there and looks up at Seonghwa, "Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't realize anyone else came here..."_

_"That;s okay," Hwa sits up, "You're San, right?"_

_"Yes. And you're...?"_

_"Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa."_

_"...Seonghwa, do you mind if I stay and eat lunch here?" He asks nervously._

_"Of course not...but shouldn't you be out there with everyone else?"_

_"What do you mean?" San asks as he climbs onto the desk underneath the windows._

_"You won gold. That has to be exciting."_

_"...Yeah, I guess..." He shrugs. "Have you ever won a gold medal?"_

_"No. I don't like doing sports."_

_"Then what do you do?" San asks as he pulls his lunch out and takes a big bite of his sandwich, looking up with wide, round eyes._

_"I draw," Seonghwa smiles._

_"Really? Like what? Dragons?" San asks excitedly._

_"No. Not really. I draw clothes..." Seonghwa mutters, looking down into the white of his pudding cup._

_"Can I see?" San asks, with the same excitement as before._

_Seonghwa's eyes flicker up and he nods, "Sure..." He gets up and walks over to his desk in the classroom, pulling his folder out and walking back. "Here," he hands it to him._

_San wipes his hands carefully and takes the folder, opening it and gaping as he flips through the pages. "These are so cool!"_

_"Really? You think so?" Seonghwa grins as he climbs back onto the window sill._

_"Yeah! You should totally make one of my skating outfits! That would be so cool!"_

_"I can't make them...I don't know how. I just draw them."_

_"You should draw it then! My dad can get it made!" San nods eagerly._

_"I can try! But I wanna make it really cool so it might take a long time..."_

_"That's okay. I'll tell my dad." San grins and Seonghwa laughs and for the first time since he arrived, he forgets to draw a snowflake._

The train slightly jerks to a halt and Seonghwa sighs as he stands and stretches grabbing his bag out from the compartment after his seatmate had and follows the crowd off the train. Home, at last. He smiles as he drags the suitcase on it's old wheels through the station, looking around at the place he once knew like the back of his hand.

Slush coated the rugs and made it squelch wetly under his feet as he crossed into the lobby, met with the smell of coffee and some sort of pastry; the early morning commuters like business men, city workers and university students. Seonghwa was like them, except this time he was coming home early in the morning and it felt right.

There was a bustle of ladies near the newspaper stand, all crowded around a magazine, gasping and pointing at it together. Probably fashion related or new celebrity tabloids, as he judged them to be magazine workers themselves, from the attire they wore; ruffled skirts with fashionable blazers and their hair in the latest hairstyles.

Yes, almost nothing had changed. The air still smelled the same and the people still acted the same. He knew the old rink was there too as his old friend had begun working there to teach kids how to skate.

He smiles and heads towards the exit, only to turn a corner and stop in his tracks, staring up at the wall in front of him. He steadies his breathing and swallows thickly as before him was a giant fabric poster of their city's pride; figure skating star, Choi San.

He was on the ice, back arched and head thrown back with his chin pointed high, as though he had just finished a program. His arms were back and his fingers curled, looking almost tangible, though Seonghwa knew he'd look crazy to try and touch a poster. He looks at the messy mop of black hair and frowned. San always loved his blonde hair...and so did Seonghwa. Maybe things had changed...

He blinks down at the costume and his heart races. It was Seonghwa's design. The one he sent him after...everything. The same baby blue he worked tirelessly to find that would match San perfectly in every way. It had the same delicate beading and snowflake patterns around the chest and down the arms. Except when it hit his hips it looked tattered and black and nothing like the gentle curves of beads Seonghwa had drawn.

He sees the black skates and his heart cracks. San never wore black skates. He always wore white. Always.

_Seonghwa knew the skating rink would be cold, but he didn't realize it was gonna be freezing enough to need gloves. He breathes onto his covered hands and shifts on the bench he's sat on, looking out onto the ice. For the three years he'd known San, he'd never seen him skate, as they hadn't become close for a few years and San tried to keep that part of his life private from his school and social life._

_See when San had invited him to stay the night, Hwa was more than excited to sleepover with his best friend. He'd barely even been to San's house, let alone slept there. San's parents were weird about that sort of thing, because they felt San should spend less time with friends and more time practicing, even at thirteen years old._

_They'd stayed up until two in the morning, despite ten usually being San's bedtime, because San had wanted nothing more than a regular sleepover with his friend. San had let him use this packet of temporary dye that Seonghwa's friend Yunho had found at the mall to put blue streaks in his bleach blonde hair. He'd have to wash it out later, but for the time being he'd never felt more awesome, except for when he'd won his first nationals competition. Seonghwa had even snuck his laptop to show San this show about rich kids in New York that he had loved the first season of._

_San's mom had made a healthy breakfast of smoothies and toast, with some extra butter for Seonghwa, after scolding the boys for staying up so late. But according to Seonghwa, San no longer needed a bedtime, not when he looked that hot and played with the now blue strands of his hair._

_He watches San glide out onto the ice, smiling with his semi-long, blonde hair, now streaked with a deep blue, flying about around his face, looking like a dream under the white lights of the rink. Sitting up straighter, he watches his friend skate around the perimeter, seeming as though he was testing out the fresh ice. An angel, Seonghwa thinks; San was like an angel out on the ice._

_He had on these black, rather form-fitting sweats and a slightly more baggy, baby blue hoodie with the word "Jelly" written across the back in big white letters, his shiny, white skates pulling it all together. He looked like a character from a book that everyone in the school admired and wanted to be with and Seonghwa had to admit that it really did fit him. Everyone loved San, wanted to be his friend, boyfriend, girlfriend, even just have a fling with him and Hwa knew why. San was strikingly beautiful, like the way the first snowfall of the season is or the way the stars sparkle against the dark sky on a clear night._

_He watches the way he leans towards the ice, head held high, arms outstretched at his sides as though he could skate right into someone's arms for the warmest hug. Hwa had been lucky enough to be showered in hugs from San since they met. He was an affectionate kid and Hwa kind of adored it, truth be told._

_But this was like watching a completely different person on the ice, controlling San's every movement. More intense and driven than he'd ever seen San and mabe it scared him a little, but it also made him that much more eager to find out more about this side of him._

_He finds himself holding his breath as San digs his skates into the ice and propels himself onward with small, purposeful strides. He was gearing up and gaining momentum, heading into some move that Hwa wouldn't be able to identify, but knew it would be magical and perfect. Everything that boy did was magical and perfect, even just cracking an egg, so his skating had to be the same._

_San jumps and spins in the air a few times before landing on one skate, looking over his shoulder as he does so. Seonghwa jumps up, clapping and whistling, "Yes! That's my San!" He cheers from where he is in the stands, beaming._

_San stops and frowns, rolling his eyes with a laugh as he looks up at Seonghwa, "Shut up!" He shakes his head and takes off skating again, smiling even brighter than before, balancing on one leg, one leg horizontal in the air as he straightens his body out flat, one arm outstretched in front of him, other tucked against his side._

_Seonghwa smiles and laughs, clapping again, "Amazing!"_

_San falters for only a seocnd and lets out a small giggle that echoes through the rink, shaking his head with a smile. "Seonghwa! Please!" But the smile doesn't leave his face._

_At least until his coach skates over, "Should I ask him to leave so you can actually focus, then?"_

_"No, Coach, I'm sorry." San looks down, sighing softly._

_"And what happened to your hair?"_

_"It's temporary dye. It'll wash out."_

_"Yes it will. Immediately. Understood?"_

_"Yes, Coach."_

_"Good. Back to practicing."_

_San nods and takes off again, eyes peeking at Seonghwa who is giving him a look that says, 'Ooh, someone's in trouble!' He gives a quiet giggle and continues skating, smile plastered back on his face again._

_Seonghwa watches as he takes off, getting lost in the music now playing from the loudspeakers, just focused on nothing but the ice. It breathtaking. The boy leaps into the air over and over, spinning and slicing the air with his blades. His spins are perfect even when not in the air and it was almost like watching him in slow motion. Like if he reached out, he could stop time and see San like that forever. But forever was over in a second as San finished practicing the program and skates over to the side to talk to his friend. "What did you think?"_

_"It was...i-it was," Seonghwa struggles for words. "I mean that was-"_

_"Mediocre at best," his coach bellows. "Get back out there and try again."_

_Seonghwa's heart plummets at San's face as he goes to skate away, touches his hand gently, "It was amazing, San. Took my breath away."_

_"Thank you," San whispers with a smile and skates off, head help higher._

_Seonghwa liked seeing San like this. He never thought he'd have to see it end. Ever._


	3. Give Me Tough Love And A Lesson To Learn (Your Tough Love Is What I Deserve)

Seonghwa leaves the train station and hoists his bag over his shoulder to hold it tighter, walking through the snowy streets towards where he used to live. Or, at least, he was heading there at first. He finds himself in front of the town's old skating rink and feels him heart thump. How had he gotten here?

Shaking his head, he decides to just see if it's open and walks up to the doors, trying the handle, blinking in surprise when it opens with ease. He walks in and passed the empty reception desk, smiling as he figures the workers are just restocking or maintaining the ice. At least until he hears skates and the latter option seems far fetched.

He heads in the direction of the noise and walks into the actual rink's bleachers, smiling as he watches the small figure glide across the ice. Graceful. Like snow.

_For two years he'd been watching San skate and for two years, he'd been confused about the jumps and moves and generally everything about skating. But, he never asked. He never wanted to distract San. Disturb his peace._

_The gentle air around San when he skated reminded Seonghwa of the fresh snowfall that coated the park outside his house when he was little. He would always run to the window to see and hoped no one had gone on it yet, so it would be white and fluffy and pure. He usually got what he wanted._

_And right now, San was that snow. Pure and swift and so delicate that Seonghwa felt as though as one false move could actually break the boy._

_San slices through the air, the picture of beauty and grace, soaring to the ground to land whatever moved he'd performed with more than perfect execution._

_He beams as the program ends and San skates right over to him, "What did you think?"_

_"It was awesome! Do it again!" He pats his head, a thing he learned San valued when he'd done a good job. The boy would always ask to be pat or rubbed on the head for a job well done. Seonghwa always complied._

_His eyes track him across the glassy surface, weaving in and out, jumping and spinning, facial expressions never failing to match the music. He took Seonghwa's breath away._

_At least until his coach scolded him when the music ended, some move he wasn't landing right or a facial expression or some weird hand motion. Seonghwa wasn't sure of what exactly was wrong, but he was sure that he didn't like his coach._

_San skates over and comes off the ice, walking to the bench to sit and put on his skate guards, breathing heavy, "Water?"_

_Seonghwa pops the nipple of the bottle open and passes it over, "You looked so great out there." He smiles at him._

_"I guess so," he shrugs. "Coach didn't think so."_

_"Well, coach is a prick," he rolls his eyes._

_"No, she's not. She's trying to make me my best." He nudges Seonghwa, "You have to admit," he stands, smiling, "I am improving."_

_"Sure, you are," he stands and follows him to the locker room so San can change and grab his things._

_"What's that supposed to mean?" San huffs as they walk, his hips swaying with his normal, sassy attitude._

_"Oh, nothing," he hums, smirking as they get into the locker room, leaning as he watches San sit and undo his skates, wiping them down._

_"No, you obviously meant something by it," he says, putting soakers on his blades and standing, opening his locker, "So spit it out, Park."_

_"Fine," he leans against the row of lockers on the opposite of San's locker door so he can look at him. "You could really use some work, Choi."_

_"Oh, could I now?" He hums as he changes his socks then strips out of his leggings and longsleeve. "Do enlighten me."_

_"Well, for starters? Your face. God awful." Seonghwa shakes his head as San pulls on his sweats and t-shirt._

_San laughs incredulously, "Tell me how you really feel."_

_"I am. Like your timing on jumps? Yikes!" He shakes his head watching San tug his hoodie over his head and turning to pack his bag up._

_"Is that all?" San asks, slipping his shoes on and hoisting the bag up on his shoulder._

_"Nope. Your triple toe. That needs some serious work." Seonghwa shakes his head, letting out an exasperated sigh._

_San smiles and walks up to him as Seonghwa stands up straight and puts his arms around his neck, "You know, it's okay to admit you have a crush on me, Hwa."_

_"W-wha-" Seonghwa blushes, flustered and caught off guard._

_San smirks and stands on his toes, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "And just so you know, there was no triple toe in that program. Before you run your mouth, maybe you can learn the names of the moves, eh, big boy?" Then he runs off, cackling, bolting from the building._

_"You little shit," Seonghwa curses and chases after him, "Come back here!" He laughs._

He smiles sadly at the memory of his old friend. Then turns his attention back to the figure on the ice, watching as they gear up to go into a jump and falter at the last second and fall. He frowns and walks closer to the edge of the rink, "Hey...could I give you some advice?" He smiles when the boy looks up from the ice, looking embarrassed, "It's okay. I fell a lot too when I first starting out. You're losing your confidence."

"H-huh?" He asks softly, eyebrows furrowing.

"You're about to jump and then you second guess it and throw yourself off. You need to relax and breathe. Don't think of it as you might fall, think of it as you might land it." He smiles. "Give it another try. This time focus on what it would look like if you landed it."

The boy nods and takes off skating around the rink, visibly trying to relax as he goes to jump, but still wobbles and falls before he jumps. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can. It's okay. Try again." The boy takes a breath and stands up again, skating around the rink, taking deep breaths. "Jsut relax and visualize it. You can do it."

With a nod, he picks up speed and starts to get into position before he actually jumps and lands, not perfectly by any means, but a landing nonetheless. "I did it!" He gasps.

"See? I told you." Seonghwa smiles.

"Thank you," he skates over. "That was awesome! I'm Jacob, by the way. Who are you?"

"My name's Seonghwa. I used to spend a lot of time here."

"You skated?" He asks, eyes wide.

"Backseat skated is more like it," comes a voice from behind Seonghwa.

It was true. He was a terrible backseat skater. It got him in trouble more than once...but never more than the one instance right after a training session.

_"You know, you looked pretty good out there." Seonghwa says as San skates off the ice and shoves his blade guards on, walking briskly to the locker room. "But, you do need some work. I mean," he says, jogging to keep up with him, "You aren't gonna make it to regionals if you can't do that doube axel that coach wants so bad."_

_"Uh huh," San grunts, wiping his skates roughly and putting on the soakers before he tugs open his locker, shoving his clothes off in exchange for the new, clean ones in the locker._

_"And you aren't putting nearly enough effort into your flip jump. You're gonna fall next time." He muses, watching San shoves everything into his bag._

_"Yeah, okay," San rolls his eyes, slipping on his shoes._

_"And don't even get me started on your-" He's interrupted when San slams the locker shut and makes him jump._

_"God, do you ever shut up?!" San screams at him. "Do you know what I go through?! No! So shut your goddamn mouth, Seonghwa!"_

_"Whoah, hey," Seonghwa glares, "Take a step back there, big britches."_

_"No. All I do is take crap. From you. From my dad. From coach. I'm done!" He shoves Seonghwa and tries to go around him._

_Seonghwa pushes him back and stares him down, "I'm sorry. We aren't done here." He shakes his head, voice hard. "What is your problem? This is what we do. I bust your chops and you tell me I don't know shit about jumps. You never get angry."_

_"Well, maybe I'm fucking tired of it, okay?! I'm so sick and fucking tired of you always telling me what to do. What do you do, Seonghwa? Huh? You draw!"_

_"Hey, don't you da-"_

_"YOU DRAW! YOU DO NOT BUST YOUR ASS DAY IN AND DAY OUT FOR A FUCKING PIPE DREAM OF BEING WORLD FAMOUS! SO GET OFF MY BACK AND STICK YOUR NOSE BACK IN YOUR LITTLE STUPID SKETCHBOOK!"_

_"SAN!" Seonghwa shakes his head in disbelief, "Is that really how you see me? Just some loser who draws?...Wow..." He laughs, "Fucking wow."_

_"Don't. Don't you dare try and make me the bad guy. You will never understand what it's like. To try so hard and still be deemed a failure. To practice for hours on end until your body is sore and your feet are bloodied. To lose your sense of self. To never be good enough. You can never relate."_

_"Oh, I can't?" Seonghwa growls, "I was a loser when I got here. All I knew was art and everyone else did sports. I felt like a fucking failure everytime I walked into class. Everytime I hung out with anyone. I was different. I wasn't good enough. I didn't know how to play any sports or do any of your fancy dance moves on the ice, so I didn't see myself as equal. I relate to it. More than you seem to think, but maybe that's because your head is so far up your ass that-"_

_"No. Your head is up my ass. Twenty-four fucking seven. Sorry you didn't have friends, but you're the reason for it. And, even if you thought of me as your only friend, you didn't need to drag me down with you." San hisses._

_"How fucking dare you." He seethes and advances on San until they're nose and nose, him leaning down slightly so he can look him dead in the eye. "I go through my shit, too. But, I would never take it on you if it weren't your fault. So don't you ever tell me that I will never understand you." He gruffs out, hot breath on Sans's face that makes him turn away, Seonghwa grabbing his chin and forcing him to look at him. "I am here because of you, San. So stop being such a fucking prick."_

_"Fuck. You. Seonghwa." He glares back._

_Seonghwa shoves San against the lockers and-_

"Hello? Earth to Seonghwa?" Comes the voice again.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Backseat skating," he turns to the voice in question to see his old classmate, Kang Yeosang.

"What's backseat skating?"

"It's where," Yeosang starts, hands in his track pants pockets, "someone tries to control your skating from off the ice while not being your coach."

"I wouldn't say control..." Seonghwa tries, biting his lip.

"Oh, I would." He hums, "Why are you trying to disrupt my skater?"

" _Your_ skater?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, _my_ skater." Yeosang cocks his head.

"Oh, well...I was just trying to help..." Seonghwa stutters.

Yeosang breaks into a smile and laughs, "God, how I've missed you," he pulls him into a tight hug.

Seonghwa laughs and hug him back, "Yeah. Missed you too, Yeo."

"Go ahead and call your mom, Jacob. You've practiced enough today. And you landed your flip jump, so good on you." He smiles.

"Thanks, Mr. Kang!" The boy grins and skates off, putting his guards on and walking off to the locker room.

Yeosang smiles as he leaves then looks at Seonghwa, "So, long time, no see. What the hell, dude?"

"School," Seonghwa shrugs. "Life."

"Life doesn't count. You have to come home every once in a while, you asshole." He huffs and socks his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll be better at visiting from now on." Seonghwa huffs and sits on the bench he used to frequent.

Yeosang plops next to him, "Okay, come here. Feet up, head in my lap."

Seonghwa lays back on the bench and rests his head on Yeosang's thighs, closing his eyes, "It feels weird to be back."

"Yeah?" He asks, combing his fingers through Seonghwa's hair, "Why's that?"

"It's just been...years." Seonghwa says, "I don't really feel...like I'm home."

"Because you haven't gone home yet," he says, braiding the side of Seonghwa's hair, "You've really let it grow out."

"Yeah, I have...how do you know I haven't been home yet?" He asks, peeking an eye open at him.

"Your bag, you genius," he laughs.

Seonghwa nods, "Right," he smiles softly.

"But don't worry. As soon as you go home, it will all flood back."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"...He doesn't talk about you, anymore...he's gotten over it." He says softly.

Seonghwa sighs, "I guess that's expected...I think I'm over it..."

"You always were such a terrible liar," he hums and strokes the rest of his hair.

"Mm, am I beautiful, now?" He smiles and looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang snorts, "Stunning." He cups his face, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, of course," he touches his hand.

"He...still lives here. He still comes her for practice. You might bump into him..." He says softly.

"I figured as much. But, it'll be fine. Really." He smiles reassuringly.

"If you're sure...a few of us are going for dinner down at Heart and Seoul, then to Borealis for drinks. You should come with."

"Uh, yeah. Sure," Seonghwa nods, standing.

"Hey, where ya goin'? I'm not kicking you out. You only just got here." Yeosang laughs.

"Yeah, but...I should get home, ya know? Let it kick in before dinner. Text me when you're about to leave?" He smiles and picks up his bag.

"Sure," he hums, "Number still the same?"

"Of course," he nods.

"Had to make sure. Wouldn't know. You never text me back." Yeosang calls as Seonghwa walks towards the exit.

"I said I was sorry," he calls, rolling his eyes. He walks out and looks up, heart stopping as he sees a mop of blonde hair exit a car. "San..." he breathes.

The person turns, just a random face Seonghwa hadn't seen before, giving him a friendly smile and a wave as he heads into the rink.

Not San. Not San. Not San.

He adjusts his bag and goes to head home, but can't seem to move his feet. Not while he stood there. In that parking lot. So close to San, yet so far.


End file.
